


Words can be hard

by alwerakoo



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Connor Deserves Happiness, Conversations, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Headcanon, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nobody is Dead, References to Shakespeare, Relationship(s), Sad and Happy, Soft Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Swearing, They both do, Treebros, Underage Drug Use, for like 1 sec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 12:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20907581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwerakoo/pseuds/alwerakoo
Summary: because they are, especially when you're really bad with them, like Connor Murphy.





	Words can be hard

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, i can't stop writing about these boys. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you want to, i would really appreciate it!

Connor wasn't good with words.

And although he was aware of it practically since their first meeting, it took him some time to understand that Connor was, in fact, extremely hopeless in that matter.

When after their first date, Evan received a text with just: "so this was kinda cool" he spent the whole night rolling from side to side in his bed and the thought that _"he doesn't like me like that, he doesn't want to know me anymore, so this is how it ends"_ sounded like an extremely loud bell in his head . Because like, who the fuck describes their first date as_ "kinda cool"_?

Apparently Connor, because the next day at school he was greeted with an exceptionally warm smile and the offer to „hang out after school or something," and Evan just felt extremely confused.

Or when, after an especially long, tiring day and a half of an equally long, sleepless night, Evan turned to his last resort by dialing up Connor's phone number. At three in the morning.

The boy was awake and picked up almost immediately, and something was telling Evan that he still hadn't planned on sleeping for some time. But at that moment all the voices in his head seemed louder than the remnants of his common sense and he was only able to explain why he was even calling after five minutes of apologizing and making sure he didn't wake Connor up. Or rather, he planed on doing just that, but before he could say anything that wasn't another _„sorry”_, he suddenly burst into tears. To such an extent that he had to hide his face in the pillow so as not to wake Heidi up with his loud despair. Connor haven't said anything this whole time and for a moment Evan thought that he simply hung up on him. But after closer inspection, it turned out not to be the case, which on one hand was a good thing, because it made him feel the familiar warmth in his chest. But on the other hand, he really didn't want anyone listening to his ugly crying for almost ten minutes. And then Connor said: "Evan? If you feel like crying... Just go for it "and suddenly Evan felt that he had no choice but to accept this offer because his body decided that the best reaction for this feeling of comfort was another wave of ugly sobs.

And although he wasted whole night thinking how did he managed to fucked up their date, or that he didn't eventually manage to tell him what had been bothering him for that really long two days, finally he released that it all didn't matter.

Because on their next date he had had even more fun than on the first one, and that other, very long and tearful night when he finally ran out of all the salt water in his body and ended the call at almost five in the morning, suddenly all his previous problems just didn't seem so important to him anymore, and after turning over his wet pillow to the other side, he just went to sleep.

Evan could write poems about Connor. Using all of these sophisticated words that he remembered from reading almost all of Shakespeare's works (at least the ones Connor forced him to read), with long sentences, comparing his eyes to the sky and writing down paragraphs after paragraphs about how their hands just fit together perfectly.

He could and sometimes did. Although most of them never saw the light of day or were thorn into pieces just to be flushed in the toilet immediately after creation, Connor eventually came into possession of several of them. And these were some of the most humiliating moments in Evan's life, but the way Connor smiled and blushed, reading his sappy poems, made it totally worth it.

If Connor were to write poems, it would probably be something like:

_"You are cool and I like you, let's have sex"_

Wich, for someone who consumed all of Shakespeare's works almost religiously, was quite bad.

But the closer he got to Connor, he slowly began to understand.

Connor wasn't someone you had to listen to.

Connor was like an open book, written in a slightly different language. And you just need to learn how to read.

And then it was just like an six sense.

He knew how Connor taped on the floor with the bottom of the shoe when he was excited. How he shifted his body weight from heels to toe tips.

Which one of his smiles meant: "I woke up in a really good mood today" and which meant "Something nice just happened, guess what." And which one were fake.

The light jingle of the bracelets on Connor's wrist that he always played with when he was stressed was forever engraved in his memory.

How he bit his nails, how hard, how he scratched off the remains of his nail polish, how he stabbed his palms with nails to the point where they started to bleed. How obsessively he scratched his wrists.

Evan just knew Connor.

And although sometimes he wondered if he might be acting a little weird, if Connor could also very clearly hear the sound of his footsteps in a noisy corridor, if he also always look at Evan's hands to make sure he was doing all right, and whether he wasn't just looking too much into it.

But just the feeling of Connor's hand intertwined with his own made all of these thoughts disappear.

Sometimes Evan just had enough of words.

Being touched was familiar, grounding and strangely soothing. Maybe it was just Connor that made him feel that way, or maybe this form of a simple reminder that someone was always next to him was all he needed. Nonetheless, it didn't actually matter.

Evan wrote poems about how he melts anytime he looks in Connor's eyes, and Connor knew it meant more than just a bunch of fancy words and metaphors.

Connor looked at Evan in his own special way, resting his hand on his cheek, rubbing over his freckles with thumb, and Evan knew he would never look at anyone else like that.

Evan's favorite thing to do was making up new pet names for Connor every now and then, starting with the simplest sunshines and sweethearts, and ending up on quoting that entire balcony scene from „Romeo and Juliet”, watching Connors face getting redder and redder with each word.

When Connor once called him "babe", something inside of Evan did a back-flip, suddenly his knees felt weak and he had to turn the other way to hide how much he was smiling.

The moments when Connor was around were fine.

More than_ 'fine'_.

When his boyfriend was always trying to sit as close as possible, lightly kicking Evan's ankles with the thick soles of his shoes.

Or when he would always sensed the anxiety slowly, slowly starting starting to bubble up in the other boy and protectively put his arm around him, pulling him closer.

Or when they mess around on Evan's bed until one of them came up with the idea to light up joint, and Connor eventually ended up with his knees on both sides of Evan's hips, bending low and letting all the smoke blow on his face.

Those moments were definitely more than just_'fine'_.

But there were also times when all of this suddenly ceased to matter.

When he would lay alone in bed, rubbing his fingers on soft bedding, staring at the green stars glued to the ceiling, gently glowing in the dark room. And even though the only things that were actually making sound were cars occasionally passing by his window, his brain was just so fucking loud that all he could do was to clench his jaw, trying to ignore the buzzing in his ears.

When his mind seemed to hang on one and same thought, destroying all attempts to make it stop with another wave of _'what if's'_.

_"You now he's with just out of pity, right?"_

_''You remember that one time you said you loved him but he just smiled and said nothing?"_

_''He doesn't love you"_

_''Why would he?''_

_''Are you sure he even cares?"_.

Over and over again.

Yeah, those sleepless nights were certainly difficult.

And the more time he actually spent with Connor, the more he assured him (only half joking) he would never let him go, the more he was afraid. Of Connor just.

_Leaving_.

And some parts of him never let him completely understand why he hasn't done it yet.

And maybe due to the fact that with each sleepless night in his empty room, his thoughts were just becoming louder and louder, or maybe he just couldn't go one week without at least one: "Yup. There it is, he's gonna do it now" stuck on loop inside of his mind, but one day he just blurred out :

''Have you ever thought about break up with me?''

''What?''

Connor stiffened, then propped himself up, causing Evan to sit up as well. Evan just shrugged, hugging his knees to his chest.

There was a quiet moment, where Connor just stared at him with both a questioning and slightly offended look.

''… No?''

Evan felt something inside of him suddenly tighten up and immediately lowered his eyes as if his green socks suddenly became very interesting.

''No?''

''No.''

''... Why?''

And it was quiet again.

Connor just stared at the wall in front of him, biting down on his bottom lip, loosening and clenching his fingers, like he always did when he got lost in his own thoughts.

But then the bracelets on his wrist jingled, and Evan's hand automatically landed on the other boy's thigh, gently stroking the material of his pants.

But Connor's muscles suddenly tighten up and Evan just. Pulled his shaky hand away.

''Evan, if you want to break up with me this is a really shitty way to-''

Evan's hand immediately flew back up to Connor's thigh, this time clenching his fingers to such an extent that under normal circumstances he would be afraid of leaving a bruise.

But these were not "normal circumstances" in any way.

Fuck, Connor was just so stupid

''No no! It's not ... It's quite the opposite.''

''What the fuck are you even talking about?''

Evan took a deep breath, finally looking into the boy's eyes. And immediately realized that this was a big mistake. So instead, he leaned forward, hiding his face in the bend of Connors neck.

A few seconds passed, and then he felt Connor rolling up his shirt, resting warm hands on his back, sliding them down his spine.

And he wasn't sure if it was comforting touch or the lack of eye contact, but after a moment, he managed to choke out:

''Sometimes ... I can't sleep. Because I'm too worried that you'll leave me or that you're with me out of pity or that you don't even...''

Evan swallowed thickly, feeling is Connor already fully embracing him, arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him even closer.

"And I know it's stupid and all, and that you gave me absolutely no reason to think that, but I just ... Its just happens sometimes."

And then he added a very quiet "sorry" like he always would, throwing his arms around Connor's shoulders.

None of them has said anything for a few minutes.

But this time, Evan didn't feel like staring into his socks and wishing he could simply disappear. Because Connor might not have actually said anything yet, but the way his hand slowly moved up, running his fingers through Evan's hair was enough for an answer.

That is, until Connor suddenly pulled away, stroking Evan's arm with his palm for the last time before putting both of his feet on to the floor. Evan pulled the sleeves of his sweatshirt over his fingers, because suddenly he felt strangely cold, staring as the other boy knelled by the bed.

"That's gonna sound weird" Connor said, searching for something in the pockets of his denim jacket.

''What's new?''

''Can I carve something in your frame?''

''Can you what?''

And okay, maybe the sight of the big pocket knife in his boyfriend's hand was a bit surprising, but the more he thought about it, the more it sounded like something very, very much in Connor's style.

So after a moment of staring at the boy's hands in silence, he suddenly bused out laughing.

''What?''

His voice sounded weird and high-pitched, but at that moment, he really didn't care. Connor bit down on his lip and looked like was barely holding his own laughter back.

''In your bed frame. Can I write you something?''

Evan looked away from Connor.

While stroking the smooth surface of wooden headboard with his fingers, he suddenly remembered how when he was little, he decided to decorate his bed with stickers that he found in some colorful magazine. And although he was very pleased with his work, his dad had a completely different opinion on that subject. So Evan ended up crouching down, scraping off the stickers with a soaked cloth. He didn't remember if he had even cried. But knowing him, he probably did. Sometimes it seamed like half of childhood when dad was still living with, Evan had spend crying.

And although he didn't think his mother was ever really angry at him for any way of self-expression, something inside never let him do anything like that again.

But when looked at Connor, he kinda. Stooped caring, all of a sudden.

So he smiled slightly, and said:

''Go ahead.''

Connor grabbed Evan's wrist, covering his eyes with his own hands, and reminding him of new "no peeping" rule.

And when he sat there, with his own, slightly sweaty palms on his face, listening to the sounds of metal brushing against wood, he felt like a complete idiot.

He felt a little less like an idiot when Connor told him: "you can look now", and his gaze immediately fell on the newly engraved initials.

_'C + E'_

He felt less like and idiot, because he kinda wanted to cry.

"If you ever had any doubts when it comes to mt unconditional love" Evan chuckled, then sniffed "You have your proof right here. Like, em, a physical one.''

Suddenly, Evan thought about many things.

About his father, about all the cool stickers he was never allowed to use, about the fact that despite everything his mom will probably still be a little angry at them for doing this, about the many nights he spent in this bed wide awake, how many times he pressed the pillow up against his his ears, as if it would somehow silence his thoughts.

But when he ran his fingertips over the letter _"C"_, the only thing he could think about was Connor.

_Connor, Connor, Connor._

And his warm hands, nice smile, heavy shoes, soft hair, all his kisses and the way he looked at him.

He turned around.

"You're so fucking crazy, you know that?" he said, wiping his eyes with his palm.

"I know" Connor replied, and then smiled, looking into Evan's eyes.

And Evan knew he would never look at anyone else like that.


End file.
